Only Child Syndrome
by CaBu12
Summary: Dealing with your sibling isn't always easy to say the least. Twins on the other hand are just trouble. (Original characters)
1. Act One

Hello! Gentle reminder,

' _I just wanted to note to everyone that this fan fiction/comic/fan art has been produced out of pure boredom/fun/crack/or just for the hell of it. I fully understand that there will be problems with my writing/artwork and I am not perfect. I'm not a professional so I cannot guarantee that you will like or continue to read what I have created. I want you as the reader to enjoy the ride and hope that you do but I humbly ask to be kind to me as an amateur._

 _I can only hope that I can entertain you for a few hours with what I've done and maybe give you a laugh or two. I can't promise that your favorite character will be perfectly written as I am not the original creator and I can't promise that you will like my original characters. (If the fan fiction/comic you are reading contains one.)_

 _I'm still learning as a writer therefore all of this is still hard for me to do. I'm assuming I can educate myself further as I go along and maybe in the future I can refine some of my writing. I thank you for clicking and reading onward.'_

I would like to add that I DO NOT own any part of Gravity Falls or its characters. I own only the characters, Rye and Heather. Also this story is meant to be a short one but it's turning out longer than expected…(sweat) but here's the first installment.

Much love guys and have fun!

* * *

" _Sibling relationships are complicated. All family relationships are. Look at Hamlet."-_ Maurice Saatchi.

* * *

Only Child Syndrome

Act One

She waltzed down the hall with the same usual pep she'd perfected when she was in a decent mood. Why she was in a good mood she wasn't sure, _maybe_ (just maybe!) it had something to do with the most awesome night she'd had six hours earlier! Awake nearly all night, watching terrible horror flicks, studying up on her cryptozoology, and spending her time with the people that meant the most to her? Damn straight she was gonna have a good time.

Still in her pajamas her steps only slowed when the smell of fried egg sandwiches hit her senses. Ah Stan's cooking! If there was one thing the old geezer could cook and cook well, it was fried egg sandwiches. He had a certain talent for frying the bottom of the egg white to a golden delicious crisp while the yolk with still a tad on the runny side. Then to slap the whole thing on an English muffin paired along with a sausage patty and slice of Kraft cheese? Perfection.

He'd better made one for everyone!

"Smell that?"

Heather flinched at the sound of her older sister's voice. The younger of the two females glanced over her shoulder to see the shorter woman with a large smile on her face. Not to mention the certain all too familiar glow of her skin that made Heather grimace. Ew, that couldn't be that 'glow' a woman gets when she's 'in love', was it? That _probably_ meant that she and Stan…

Ugh!

"You look happy." Heather's eyebrows drooped.

"Oh, I _am_."

"Gross!" The urge to gag made the paranormal investigator slap her right hand to her lips. "It was already safe to assume that you two… you know, did the 'deed' but to have you admit it and say you _liked_ it is just disgusting."

"Thank you!" The usual sarcastic thanks was enough to bring a smile back to the taller Matthews sister's face.

"I'm not saying _you're_ disgusting," She corrected herself. "I'm just saying what you _do_ is disgusting. Especially with _him_." Again Heather shuddered.

"What's wrong with Stan?" Rye's bottom lip grew heavy and dropped with her eyes presented a nasty glare.

"He's like the brother I never had." The girl with the pixie hair cut shrugged her shoulders, "And you being my sister, it's gross."

"Grosser than thinking about mom and dad?"

"Nah, not that gross. At least I'm cheering you on at some point, 'cause you're my bestie."

"Ah well." Rye rolled her eyes in a rather playful manner and took the lead, walking ahead of her sister and entering the kitchen area of the Mystery Shack.

Was it weird that Stan and Rye were a semi-official item at this point? After all they'd gone through together as best friends now it was something else? Hell, she was aware at some degree that Rye had feelings for the older man but nothing seemed as official as it was now. Heaven knew how long it had been since the two were first intimate, not that she wanted to know anyway. But they sure had gotten stronger as a couple (whether it be best friends or lovers) in the last six months or so.

It wasn't a bad thing by any means, although when Rye first professed Stan as her new best friend (other than her of course) Hea was totes jealous. Of course she would be! After all, she and Rye had been thick as thieves since she was _born_. And to have this _man_ to come along and change things, in what seemed like an instant, was kinda hard to deal with. At least in the beginning it was.

But things changed for the better relatively quick. Stan, who at the time Heather declared as an enemy, welcomed her into his home with open arms. Even though he had an odd ways of showing it sometimes, he made every effort possible to treat her as one of his own.

He went to every extend to make sure she was at least satisfied with him as a potential mate for her sister. Hell, she was pretty sure that he even went as far as to brownnose her because he loved Rye so much. In the end, he wanted her approval because he cared for Rye. And she had to respect that.

He had never done anything in great amounts to offender her. So why not give him a shot?

Besides the more she got to know him, the more she found out they had a lot of things in common. Like for example…their love for money. That was for sure, something they became besties in their own way with.

He was now a part of her family.

But that didn't mean that it didn't make it any less gross that he and her sister were mackin' and doing the mattress mambo every other night. Even if they did keep their romps pretty private.

Following after the one person she cared about more than any other, Heather entered the dining area only to find Stan still standing (or slouching rather) at the stove. Rye arrived at the conman's side and once within distance, he turned to her and smiled. She did the same and in that instant they looked, seemed…perfect for each other.

How could two people be such good friends and lovers at the same time? Was that kind of thing even possible? Sure, she had heard from her mother, beginning at a younger age, that she and her father were first best friends before they started any kind of relationship let alone a marriage. But that kind of stuff wasn't _real._

Was it?

In this moment in time, by the way they were looking at one another…it had to be true. The way Rye came out of his room in the mornings with her strange and gross loving 'glow' and the way he laughed at almost everything she said. It was more than lovers just making due on what their bodies wanted.

And while she had seen her mom and dad share these types of moments, those were just that; moments between a _mom and dad._ Something that was _supposed_ to happen. But isn't that how everything or a family started? Did this mean at some point her mom and dad acted this way around another?

 _Ew, don't go there_.

But for some odd reason, this seemed so much more pure. Sure, it was given that the two, Rye and Stan, shared some rather arousing and naughty instants together this just appeared so _romantic_. Was it an equivalent to the princess movies and stories she heard before childhood bedtimes? No.

No, because it was so much _more_ than that.

Because no amount of 'love at first sights' or 'spell-breaking kisses' could amount to just the simple smile that they shared. They were just so solely meant to be.

"Do we have to have the goo-goo eyes before breakfast?"

And add in Ford to shatter the moment.

Ah Ford, while so attractive he was a total jerkhole. Could she honestly say things had changed since his time being back in this reality? _Kinda_. In some ways the whole house had been flipped upside down and in others, things were just as crazy as always.

Example A: Having Stanford back made Stanley, for a short period time anyway, a tad more sensitive. More delicate to what his brother had to say and did. They fought (like every set of siblings let alone _twins_ ) and with explosive results when they needed venting. And God knew that the two had too many unresolved issues to work out with one another.

Did that mean that Stanley had his moments when he was less the man that Rye loved? Probably _not_ but that didn't mean they squabbled about things on rare occasions.

And that of course lead to a clear example B: sure, Rye and Stan had moments in which their relationship appeared a lot less fairytale-like but in the end, when it really mattered, they knew they could _trust_ one another. The day that Stan told Rye all about what had happened in his past with his brother they came out even stronger.

He was sure that she would have some reservations for whatever reason maybe/probably because he 'lied', if you can call it a 'lie', about his past and who he was. But if there was ever anyone who could understand what it was like to have a sibling to take care of, even if it meant lying to the world, it was Rye. Was she upset at the idea that Stan was a twin? Maybe but upset probably wasn't the best word to describe it.

Shocked had to be a better defining word.

To know that he had been suffering for so long, probably crushed her heart and made her want to be even closer to him. To comfort him as a lover, best friend and overall human being. Rye had never come close to losing a sibling whether it be _her_ or Ailea but just the idea and the rank as older sister had to have some kind of impact on how she felt.

To lose a sibling…especially when part of it _was_ Stan's fault. It had to be devastating.

And this went without mentioning that the moment Stanford arrived back to this dimension he was pretty much being an ungrateful dick. That didn't help anyone feel better about _anything_ , especially when Stanley was so sensitive about the subject.

" _You give me my house back, you give me my name back, you give me my_ life _back!"_

Even though Stan was more like the annoying older brother she'd never had, he did not deserve that kind of attack. He at least, in the very least deserved a _hug_.

"I'm surprised you're even up at this hour, seeing as how late you two were up last night." Ford's voice once again broke any concentration Heather had invested in.

"We all partied last night." Rye said, finally breaking away from her lover but not before sending him a wink in the process.

"It just so happens that I _heard_ the 'party' you two had." Not missing any kind of beat, Ford sported a rather cute pout before going for a hit of coffee that sat in a mug several inches away from his right hand. "I can safely say it was not appreciated."

"It's not like I could help it," With a wide _proud_ grin, Stan moved away from the stove, cast iron pan in his mitten-covered hand. "You know how Rye gets."

Cue the point where both man and woman laugh at their own disgusting private moments being brought to light and more embarrassingly enough, at the kitchen table.

"I would appreciate it," Ford spoke after clearing his throat of the steaming coffee he'd just swallowed. "If you two kept it down when you decide to…" He physically shuddered, "Become _intimate_."

Hm, not a terrible request seeing as she was pretty grossed out by the whole thing too. Then again she was pretty used to it at this point.

"Or maybe you could just not do that kind of thing in _my_ house at all!" And there went the being considerate and polite about things.

"I live here too," Stan frowned as he moved to the counter and slipped the fried egg from the pan to one half of a toasted English muffin. "I think you forget that I've been paying the mortgage here, I have just as much right—"

"This is my house!"

"Who's been doing the upkeep since you've been gone, huh? Look at this place; it's like a bachelor's castle! A one of a kind mancave and all thanks to yours truly." Stan _appeared_ confident in what he was saying but was it a front?

"One, you _aren't_ a bachelor and two, I wouldn't have had you do the upkeep if it weren't for what you did!" Ford shot a pair of deadly daggers at his brother's back.

 _Yeah but if it wasn't for Stan, you wouldn't_ be _here._ Sure, she could think that all she wanted but saying it out loud was something different. She knew that Rye was thinking the exact same thing, why wasn't _she_ saying anything?

But instead she remained silent and took a seat _away_ from Ford.

"Yeah, yeah." Stan topped the sandwich with a heated sausage patty and slice of processed cheese.

"That does bring up something else I've been meaning to talk to the both of you about." What could this possibly be about?

And what was _she_ , chopped fucking liver? A fucking fly on the wall?! She wasn't invisible, wasn't someone _anyone_ going to bring _her_ into this conversation?! Ugh! Might as well keep her mouth shut _for now_ to see what this whole mess was about. After all, it could be considered rude to just intrude on their convo.

As things continued without her help in the eating area, Heather shifted her weight to her left leg and crossed her arms over her bust. She might look like she had an attitude problem but hey, that's what they get for leaving her out.

"Shoot." Rye placed her chin over the back of her palm and added her weight to the bent elbow supported by the shabby table.

"I've noticed that you've been staying here for a number of _days_ now," Ford also placed his two elbows to the wooden surface and interlocked his fingers. "And while you might run a bed and breakfast, I don't."

What was _that_ about?! Just what was he getting to?

"I'm thinking that if you would like to continue to stay here that you might as well contribute to the household." His thick gray eyebrows leveled out over his eyes and chin rested just above his hands. "What I'm saying is, I think it's about time you start paying some kind of rent."

 _WHAT_?!

Instead of any kind of jump to anger or even sign of utter shock, all Rye's response to his statement was a pair of cocked brows. Sure there had to have been a million and a half things running through her noggin but her face wore _nothing_ about what she was really thinking. Why wasn't she responding?

The only time the older woman moved more than an inch was when her lover appeared at her left, plate in hand. With a near perfect fried egg sandwich set in the center, an array of crispy hash browns laid piled high at the right of the platter, the steam from the food just wafting into the chilly morning air.

"Sure." She finally responded, pulling her hands from her face and presenting her 'brother in-law' a smile. "If that's what it takes, I'm more than willing to pay."

W-what?! No way!

"Hell," She gave a single shrug of her shoulders, "If you want, I'll pay for _both_ of us. Stan and I."

The urge to faint nearly knocked the silent girl off her feet.

"I got it." Using his free hand to lift his index finger into the air, Stan chimed in. "How about this to make things simple. I'll pay her half and she can pay mine."

Ford narrowed his eyes and cocked a thick eyebrow himself. "That…actually makes thing unnecessarily complicated. I just want rent from everyone who stays here for more than three days a week. I don't care how you two work it out."

"Fine." Rye gave a nod of her chin, "I'm happy to pay to get the D."

"Same here," Stan paused and quickly recovered, "I mean not the D but you know. If that's what it takes and if it'll keep you from complaining all the time."

"Agreed." Ford gave a single nod of his head. "Wait, did you just refer to Stan's…"

"Either way, you'll get what you want." Rye was quick to interject, silencing the older man from continuing on and bringing up the subject of 'the D' again.

Ford gave a small shiver, probably trying to shake off the idea of his brother and a _younger_ woman getting it on. "I'm glad we could all agree without an argument."

Wait a fucking minute. Was everyone just going to ignore the fact that she was standing there? Arms crossed, pout activated and jaw clenched? What about what _she_ had to say about this situation. Number one (and most important) being that how _dare_ he charge Rye for just hanging around the house! It wasn't like she was uninvited or even _living_ in the damn house! It was downright disrespectful.

Sure, Rye was _not_ Ford's favorite person by any means. In fact when they first met, Ford was the first to say that Rye was way too young for someone Stan's age. He shot her glare that topped any she'd seen before, almost like she was walking in on a position where no one wanted her, when it was just the opposite! Stan _wanted_ , loved Rye and it was his right to her if they both agreed. It wasn't like she was a prisoner or underage.

And that all went without mentioning that she was totally left out of this mess! They couldn't just ignore her! She wouldn't _let_ them! She was just a much part of this household as Rye! After all, it was _her_ that introduced Rye and Stan in the first place! Shit, she visited in the house more than three days a week; she should be charged rent too!

"Hey!" Ripping her arms away from her chest, Heather slammed her hands down at her sides and barked loud enough to get everyone's attention. "You think you can just go and do that, say that?! How could you?"

The room fell silent. Ford stared back at her almost as if he didn't know she was talking _to him_. He looked at her with his lips parted in the slightest and his brows arched to the top of his forehead. She was looking right at the jerk, how could he not know she was addressing him?

"And just…who are you speaking to?"

"YOU!"

"Oh, what was that again?"

Hea's right arm shot up from her side, her palm slapping the area just above her brow bone. "Rye is practically family and you want to charge her _rent_ just for spending a couple nights a week here? That's so cold!"

"I think it's pretty reasonable." Ford answered, hardly giving her a moment to finish her sentence. "She is eating our food, using our electricity and…my brother for that matter."

"All of this is true." Rye spoke out in a rather peppy tone, just as Stan placed the plate down in front of her, being sure to feed his lover first. "Thanks babe." She then shot another loving smile at the man she'd given everything to.

"Not a problem, toots." Stan whirled around on his heel and went back to his work at the stove, no doubt making the second of the four sandwiches of the morning.

"You don't get it! It's _wrong_!"

"Hea," Before even touching her food, Rye looked toward the younger Matthews' sister and softened her voice. "What's this _really_ about?"

And just what was that supposed to mean?! Not being able to catch herself in time or control it, a bright red flush broke out across her face. It wasn't like she had some kind of hidden agenda; she was saying how she felt, honestly! This wasn't about her being completely left out and ignored by the people who were supposed to spoil her rotten.

 _Nope, not about that at all!_

"I just said what it's about!" She snapped as the sound of more eggs hissing away in the skillet drowned out her protesting.

Rye leaned in toward the taller girl, " _Hea_."

"Okay, so maybe I'm mad that you're all ignoring me! Am I not standing here? No one even acknowledges me!" More blood rushed to her cheeks, the truth always tasting more bitter than she could ever remember.

"Wait," Ford lifted his hand into the air, preventing her from saying anything further, for the moment anyhow. "You _want_ me to charge you rent?"

Did that have to be answered in a 'yes' or 'no' fashion? Couldn't she say 'kinda'? Because the thought of having to shell out more money to just visit family was ridiculous but the idea of being left out wasn't fun either. If she had to pay a few extra bucks to get attention…more of _Ford's_ attention then she would be willing to pay it.

"No, of course not!" She went with her first gut instinct because the idea of spending money on _anything_ made her stomach roll.

"Then why are you complaining? I thought of all people, you would appreciate it if I didn't hand you a bill."

"But that's not fair!" Her head shrunk between her shoulders. "You can't just ignore me! I want the same treatment as everyone else!"

"So you want me to charge you rent." He repeated his last question, this time around as a statement rather than a question.

"No, I just want to be included!" She shouted again, was he _not_ listening. "Why should I have to pay _anything_ when I don't stay here as often as Rye?!"

"I'm not following."

"UGH!" Her arms shot up to the sky. "You _never_ talk to me, just to Rye and Stan!" Her tear ducts burned as if she were on the edge of crying. "I just want…"

Her whole body ignited with fear with a slight hint of embarrassment. If she had to say it out loud and _tell_ him that she was secretly lonely and in need of his attention, then it wasn't worth it. Because then every time afterward his affection toward her would be…forced. And that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted something natural. Something similar to—

Her aching eyes moved away from Stanford and over to Rye and Stanley, both of who were now staring at her with two sets of wide eyes. Agh God, now she just looked like a lunatic. Was there a point in talking anymore? It wasn't like someone as dense as Ford would get something so personal.

In the end all she really wanted to be loved by someone that _she_ loved. Could that person be Ford? Sure she had feelings for the man who seemed so socially stunted but how could it possibly go any further if he wasn't willing to _listen_?

"Just forget it!" Without giving the man she'd grown so fond of another look, she spun around and made a dash for the front door.

She needed fresh air. Sure, she had nowhere else to go but hell the front porch was a much better place than that stuffy kitchen.

Act End.


	2. Act Two

Only Child Syndrome

Act Two

"Just forget it!"

He felt his whole body wince at the sound of the front door slamming shut. What in all the worlds was _that_ about? Feeling more confused than he had in one of the longest times, Stanford tilted his head to one side just as his twin brother appeared at his side, breakfast in hand.

"Whoa, you really did it that time Ford." Stanley uttered while placing the odd (and frankly over greased sausage sandwich) just inches from his mug of coffee.

 _He_ did _what_ exactly this time? Figures the moment he came back to this his own dimension, he'd begin to have problems again just functioning again with 'normal' humans. A woman for that matter, it wasn't as if he'd had a lot of communication and or experience with women in the first place…

"Was I supposed to understand what just happened?" He said, eyes moving from the direction the young woman disappeared into and over toward the artery clogging breakfast item before him.

"Hea can be a bit…emotional sometimes." Rye spoke at his side, her arm moving to the tomato condiment in front of her. "She's pretty black and white when it comes to things she's passionate about. Give her a half hour and she'll be fine." The female dubbed as 'Stan's' replied, removing the top to her sandwich and adding (too much) the sugary-salty sauce to her meal.

Things she was _passionate_ about? What was that supposed to insinuate? This had to be some kind of pathetic attempt at a prank or perhaps some kind of 'test' orchestrated by his brother and his girlfriend. No one was that unreasonable. Then again he _had_ been away so long, maybe this was the way all youngsters reacted nowadays?

No matter if this was a poorly constructed prank on his twin's behalf or something real, he had to squash it. No sense in keeping the young girl in the dire pit of despair.

"I should go have a talk with her." Ford lifted his head up, vision moving from his food to his brother then to Rye.

"Uhh…" Stan grimaced for a moment before returning to his business at the stove.

Well, that reaction alone roused a number of questions! What was wrong with talking with the girl? Was she _that_ unapproachable? Because _no one_ was that unapproachable. He had spent decades on the run and pledging for his own life (in certain situations) and even had debates with Aztec gods and no one was too unreasonable. This woman wasn't any different.

"What?" Ford's shoulders lifted while his brows fell heavy over his eyes.

"It's just not a great idea." The sound of Rye's smooth voice forced the scientist to look her way. She at this point had re-topped her sandwich but instead of devouring her breakfast, turned to him and gave him her full attention, as if she were _warning_ him of some kind of impending doom.

"And why not? She's upset but she isn't crazed. At least not from what I've witnessed."

The older of the two sisters pursued her lips. "Like I said, give her awhile to calm down and she'll be more than ready to talk to you. If you go out now she's not going to react well."

"Hmm."

"Just trust Rye on this alright Ford?" Stan whirled away from his cooking station and addressed him with a certain look of frustration and shake of the head.

"I think I can _talk_ to the woman. She's more than mature to listen to reason." What did they think he'd been through in the last thirty years? If there was anything he could do, it was negotiate with someone.

"You don't know her like we know her," Stanley started at him once again with his 'know-it-all' attitude. "Just _listen_ to Rye; she's her sister for cripes' sake."

The older of the twin boys narrowed his stare, " _Stanley_."

The younger male returned the nasty glare, " _Ford_."

"Just let him go."

Both men stopped. Mid-argument and mid-stare the two males looked over toward the younger woman he sat with her eyes shut and look of calmness overcoming her features. Ford felt his furrowed brows ease in tension and ease up on to the top of his forehead. His lips parted in the slightest as he watched as Rye's eyes opened up once again. For once, someone with some sense!

"If he wants to get screamed at let him go."

An instant frown appeared on his face. Wonderful, there went the idea of someone with the maturity to deal with Stanley's attitude problem.

"We already warned him, Stan." The girl's deep brown eyes fluttered in the direction of his younger twin all the while an odd smile appearing on her cheeks. "We can't stop him if that's what he really wants. He'll learn the hard way I guess."

The strange smile that had formed on her face moments earlier appeared on his face in the same fashion only with the addition of a roll of his eyes. "Fine but I'm warnin' you Ford. She's gonna bite."

"We'll see about that." He cleared his throat before gently pushing himself away from the table that felt as if it would soon give way. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be right back." Making sure to grab his plate of food he stood up and turned away from the couple who harbored so much doubt in his abilities.

"Good luck." Rye muttered with a sigh.

What she _didn't_ know was that he didn't _need_ anything like luck. A little charisma would take him to where he needed to be. It had always worked in the past. To a certain degree anyway…

Ford made his way through the shack, by passing the mess his younger brother had lived in day after day. No wonder he spent his days in the basement below all of this junk. Although he couldn't exactly get away with the title 'neat freak' either; he did have his own sense and style that he liked to call, 'organized chaos'.

Just as the scientist extended his free right hand to the door knob of the front door, the frame popped open before him. Heart ceasing to beat for a solid second, he prepared himself to see Heather's face but was quite surprised when Soos appeared before him. Dressed and ready for work, the younger male broke into a smile when their eyes met.

"Hey mister Pines! Or mister Pines number two? Or older mister pines maybe?" Soos muttered to himself just as he lifted his index finger to his bottom lip. "Mister Pines' brother no one knew about until just a couple of weeks ago?"

"Ford." He grunted, eyebrows settling low over his eyes. "Ford is fine."

"Alright, I think I can do that, mister Ford Pines." A cheerful grin shot across the handyman's face.

Was there a point in insisting upon using his nickname any further? It was obvious the young maintenance man wanted to be as polite as possible. Anyway, there were more pressing matters that required his attention at the moment.

Ford cleared his throat, "Did you happen to see Heather outside just now?" He asked, the plate of food in his left hand becoming heavy.

"Oh yeah." Soos gave a hefty nod of his head, the smirk that had appeared seconds ago faded quickly. "She looks kinda upset…" His voice dropped several octaves while he proceeded to use the thumb of his right hand to point beyond his shoulders. "But she's sitting on the front porch."

"Thank you." The older man gave a single dip of his chin before by passing Soos, and making his way to the rickety wooden landing in the front of the shack.

Waiting for the sound of the front door to shut, Ford only made his move toward the girl who sat on one steps of the porch once the young handyman removed himself from earshot. His footsteps thumped against the older wooden floor, so he was sure she heard him coming along. Although she refused to move an inch and instead continued to sit still with her head dipped low between her shoulders, and arms wrapped around her chest.

The warm wind pushed her short locks in every other direction and the smell of her body spray left his heart slamming in his chest cavity. Why was he feeling nervous now? Sure, he had always had an issue talking with pretty girls but he was far passed the age when that should be a problem. This shouldn't be too hard. Even _if_ Stanley and Rye didn't have much faith in him.

"Heather?" He stepped around the girl he called out to before taking a careful seat to her right side. Without an immediate response, he placed his sandwich in the space that separated them, and spoke again. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not." She hissed. The moment her lips began to move, she turned her head away from him, most of her features becoming hidden under the shadows of her hair. "What do you care anyway? It's not like you notice me, even when _I am_ around."

Now that wasn't true. Not in the least. "That isn't entirely true." He answered how he felt, leaning forward an extra couple of centimeters in an effort to get a look at her face.

"It isn't?" She bit back, lifting her chin enough to where the shade from her locks had lifted, allowing her beet-red face came into view. "You're talking about charging rent to everyone in the house but you ignore me like I'm not even there!"

Was it not clear before when he said that he was _willing_ to charge her a fee if she wanted it that way? Then again, she seemed upset at the aspect of being charged so…what did that all mean? He was sure, just like the way he'd stated before, that she'd would have appreciated it if he _didn't_ charge her, especially when she didn't stay as often as her sister.

It wasn't like he was speaking Latin or any other dead language, so why wasn't she understanding the plain facts? Were all young women like this nowadays?

"I thought you had made it pretty clear that you would refuse to pay rent either way." He gulped, the nervousness he initially felt coming in folding over in his stomach a dozen times over. "I know how you are tight on funds so I thought it was pointless in asking anyhow."

She sat up straight almost as if she'd been struck with an arrow. The glow from her face, that seemed to begin with the feeling of embarrassment shifted to anger. Her hands clenched to her pantleg as if she were trying to control herself.

"My funds and how low they might be, is none of your business! I don't need your charity!"

Ford felt his eyes shift right then left. "I believe that's the point I was trying to make."

Heather released a loud grunt and proceeded to shake her head. "Ugh! Getting through to you is like trying to talk to a brick wall!"

"Now that is untrue without a doubt."

"Is it, is it _really_? Because every time I talk to you it's like talking to a robot." She sent a glare his way that nearly killed him.

What was with all this sudden hostility? It wasn't like he had insulted her! And of course, at the _hint_ of an argument, his brother-side kicked in and wanted to fight back. But no, he couldn't. He was passed that at this age. Not to mention that this miscommunication didn't have to end with a fight, if he could just ease her. Besides, in the end the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Feelings or otherwise. After all, she had always, up until this point anyhow, had been kind to him.

And truth be thought, there had been a reason that he hadn't wanted to charge her a fee for staying. Besides the 'your tight on funds' aspect anyway. He didn't want to charge her for something when she was his _guest._ The home that Stanley had been residing in the last thirty years was in the end _his_ but now that he was back, that meant he could resume living as he wanted or saw fit. And if _he_ had a guest over for a couple nights a week then that was what would happen.

He didn't have to charge her rent. Because he _wanted_ her there.

But she didn't need to know that.

"Is that really necessary?" He felt the urge to clench his jaw but resisted.

"I want to be treated like Rye! I just…" Her eyes darted off elsewhere.

"But you _aren't_ Rye." Ford gave a gentle shake of his head.

Her daggers returned to focus on him, the intensity coming back times two. "Like I don't already know that! I know that I'm not calm, smart and responsible! I don't need you to remind me!"

Wait, what?

"I'll never be her and I'll never have what she has!" She neared the point of screaming, tearing her eyes away from him once again and pounding her two fists on to the deck.

But why would he _want_ to be Rye? Why when she was so perfect at being _Heather_? Sure, she and Rye were similar in _some_ ways but when it came down to it, they were opposites. Heather might not be calm, smart and responsible in the same ways that her older sister was, but that didn't mean that she didn't carry those traits in her own 'Heather-way'.

Siblings weren't meant to be exactly the same. And that he knew for a solid _fact._ Even twins were meant to be different. He and Stan weren't carbon copies of one another and in a lot of ways... Heather was very much like Stanley while Rye was similar to him.

Although there was a single key difference. The loving, best friend-relationship that Heather and Rye treasured so much had stood the test of time. While on the other spectrum he and his twin had somewhere lost their love along the line. What was the difference? Could it have been the science fair incident that really broke their relationship beyond repair? Or had it begun to fracture some time before?

If the same thing had happened to Heather and Rye…would the sisters be able to find their way back together; to forgive and forget?

Even with their obvious differences, the two girls had managed to stick together even through high school, college and even in their careers. Why couldn't it have been the same with Stan? Why did his brother _have_ to be so selfish? To try and keep him from his dream career? Why not hit the books and maybe learn alongside him? And maybe they could have been together… like the Matthews sisters.

But the truth was things were different now. There wasn't any changing it, no going back. He could be as envious about Heather and Rye's relationship as he wanted but it wouldn't change a thing.

"You're right. You'll never be Rye."

A small exhale of air from the woman sitting beside him did little to ease him, even with the mass of emotions swirling around in his gut.

"You'll never have what she has. And that's just the way it's going to be." Ford lifted his chin, turning his stare away from the girl and looked out at the freshly risen sun. "You should learn to accept that now. She's worked hard for what she has and you shouldn't try to take that from her."

Silence.

"Stop being selfish."

Were his words beginning to set in and make sense? Good. If what she needed was the honest truth then he was going to give it to her. Maybe she needed it. Who knew for sure if Rye and Stan had ever been brutally honest with her. She didn't need to be babied. She was an adult. She could handle anything.

She was someone that he could admire. She, at her young age, had come a long way. She knew her facts on the paranormal and even made a career out of it! What was _not_ to admire about that? She was warm, welcoming and overall _understanding_ (for the most part). She could complain about what she didn't have and compare herself to her sister until nightfall but in the end, she was the perfect Heather Matthews. The best she could be, for herself.

There was a lot about her that he could talk about. From her strange and sometimes morbid sense of humor to the fact that she had a 'super hero' sense of justice. Of course, she was temperamental, child-like and sometimes rash but those were traits that made her Heather. She wouldn't be her without them. Now only if she could understand that.

But overall the best thing about her was her selflessness. Which was the trait he, oddly enough, he had to remind her about. Her ability to put others above herself and protect everything she held dear was more than admirable. Where along the lines had she, herself, forgotten this? After all it was her selflessness that he _loved_ the most about her.

But that wasn't something that he could let her know. Not now anyhow.

After a moment of silence, Ford began to turn back to face the girl he cared too much for when a flash of movement on her end made him freeze. Like a bolt of lightning, she swung her right arm down between the space that separated them. Her fingertips clenched on to the now cold plate of food. And with cat-like precision she proceeded to force his platter of breakfast into his chest. The concoction of lardy sausage, gooey cheese and crisp muffin splattered all over his beloved sweater, coating the entire outfit in grease.

His arms jerked upward, palms facing outward while his jaw hung open in shock. What in all dimensions was going on?! Just when he thought he was getting through to her, she turned around and _insulted_ his crimson sweater with this…this _injustice_.

"What has gotten into you?!"

"Don't you _dare_ call me selfish!"

Now getting a decent look at her face, he saw the strands of tears that fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. Almost as if he'd done out the greatest insult of her life, she shot him a look that made his heart _ache_. A look of true malice and hurt, she looked almost as if she could spat right in his face, had she had the chance.

"I just want to be special!" She wept, now screaming loud enough to draw attention. "I want to be special to _someone_! That's not selfish!"

"Heather?"

"If you think _that's_ selfish, then you really are heartless!" She rose from her seat, tears still free-falling down her face. "Whatever you do or _don't_ do, just continue to ignore me, okay! Don't talk to me, ever again!"

Without waiting a moment for his response, she took off. No doubt leaving for the bed and breakfast that she called home, she left him on the porch, the skin beneath his sweater now becoming sticky with lard. What was _that_ about? Being special to someone? When did this become about love and not about wanting to be charged rent?

" _She's pretty black and white when it comes to things she's passionate about."_

Was this one of those things?

The sound of the front door creaking open made the older man flinch. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Soos standing in the doorway. He wore a look of concern on his face although the overall sense of calmness about what he must have heard was a bit concerning.

"I heard the noise." He said, lifting his right hand to the back of his head and began to scratch. "Didn't anyone warn you not to talk to Hea when she's upset? Seems like a thing Rye or Stan might do. But they _were_ in the kitchen saying something about not telling you 'they told you so'."

"Yeah…"

So even Soos knew better than to test the waters with an upset Heather? Ugh. Seemed like he had a bit more learning to do when it came to human emotions. Not a bad idea to actually take notes…after a change of clothes of course.

Act End.


End file.
